Wing

WING: Pacifist Swordsmech

[whitewingedknight]

((ooc: I am a bucket of fail. Faily fail fail. With health blah and internet blah and computer blah and sick kitty blah and then just blah flavored blah. a-anyone even want me? ))

[whitewingedknight]

Return (timeskipped)

[whitewingedknight]

“….oh.”  More than the soft syllable, the tremor of desire that ran through the jet’s frame indicated his response to that idea. Drift joining them, or Gasket.  Or even just watching. It was a great deal to imagine.  

Wing takes a step back, leading Perceptor with him by the hands, to prop himself on the table. His hands skated up the other’s arms, fingertips teasing his throat, pulling Perceptor in for another kiss. 

[gun-fondling-battle-stat-blog]

Or both, Wing.  How about that?

As the Knight pulled away, Perceptor nearly growled in protest, only to find himself being led to the table, of which his object of desire used as a perch.  He leaned into the kiss, maneuvering his lower half between the jet’s thighs.  It wasn’t as rough as before; he recalled the last time they had interfaced, how Wing seemed to respond well to the languid movements and the slow, precise exploration of his frame.

Perceptor, being a scientist, had been interested in Drift’s armor style since the day they met.  With Wing, it was no different.

He brought a hand to glide over the jet’s waist and along one of the smooth panels of metal located at the mech’s shoulder.  Having sensitive hands allowed for such pleasant feedback; it made his engine purr like a kitten—even more so as he pressed his chest against Wing’s.

[whitewingedknight]

Wing gave a soft little fluttering sigh as the hands glided over him, nuzzling against the taller mech's throat. His hand found the scope again, ghosting down the long shaft. 

He gave a startled whimper as the vibration passed from the other's chassis to his own, and he shifted his weight, hooking Perceptor's leg with one of his heels. 

[botofbanter-blog]

Promised Land

[botofbanter-blog]

  Investment…?

He’s my buddy. The fact that I like him doesn’t mean I should stick my nose into his business.

/Red was more than confused not knowing what the knight had in mind. He and Percy were friends right? And business partners. The rather heavy next question about what indeed is “freedom” makes him frown, forgetting for a moment about Wing’s attempts of suggesting Drift that there is more to his partnership with Percy than he thinks./

/Freedom was a touchy subject, so he stays quiet looking for a good answer and stars above, he hated philosophical puzzles. He winces funnily focusing on the matter. What he had was pretty much the only freedom he could afford and feel comfortable with. He went through a grinder of many unpleasant things in the past and was forced to become what he is against his will. But instead of crying over it like a goodie-two pedes he just went with the flow and once he was free from Knights and Wing… he felt happiness like never before. Noone told him where to go, who and how to kill or what to do! But of course the hippie doesn’t have to know that, because honestly what is this? A Disney movie? Red rolls his optics and shakes his head. No. He can’t fall into his trap, that also makes these posts longer than they should. Yes. Drift nods slowly in understanding and all of a sudden looks up in the strike of sudden inspiration./

Freedom doesn’t have a definition because each creature looks differently at it and differs on what it chooses. As long it’s something that creatures decides to do. So many definitions might be correct and at the same time all of them might be wrong.

/He smiles proudly. That was flawless. Watching some human movies did paid off. But then Wing brings his humour down once more./

Of course it would be interesting! Who said that we would kill each other right away? /He huffs and stomps./ After all, you can never trully know a dude unless you cross your weapons with him! Or something like that.

[whitewingedknight]

"Well, no. You should each respect each other's boundaries, of course. But that doesn't mean you wouldn't be distressed if something happened to him, or he you, right?" Why was this so hard to explain? Was the concept that alien or was Wing...really bad at explaining things?

But he does grin at the definition. "You're right. Freedom should be close to happiness."  Not always though.  

"Drift!" He really doesn't like thinking about that, rubbing a nervous hand over his chassis.  "Please. There are better ways to get to know someone than by killing him." Which seems...rather counterproductive, really. 

[botofbanter-blog]

Promised Land

[botofbanter-blog]

  /Red glances Wing slightly fired up. He did not liked when others poked the things they shouldn’t - and by that he meant all topics resolving around feelings or desires other than destruction and having fun./

What really matters to me is to keep flying, capiche? Perceptor is a free mech and a big boy. He can do whatever he wants, it’s not my business.

/If there was anything that he hated more than talking about softy feelings it was talking about teamwork and softy feelings. Working with his Wing taught him many things about partnership, probably everything the worst. That sudden outburst of his was clearly defensive so he huffs angrily like an emberling and cools down again, before angel-boy will pick up on more goodie-fluffy topics to pick from under his plating. He snorts waving dismissively at the next statement./

Please. That depends on how are they raised. Do you think mercenaries don’t have codes or ethics? Guilds and their own laws? /He draws a circle in air while looking back at the knight./ How do I put this so that idealistic hippie head of yours will comprehend it… It’s not all black and white. It’s more like… mercenaries mostly doesn’t like to be bound by any laws or being dependent from others - stronger or richer. We use the guns to shape our own way of things by doing the dirty work. Some do it for purely for the money, others treat it like a job like any other to feed their family. It all depends on how you look at it and the reason behind it. /He looks away in a reverie./ Before you will ask, and I know you will, my reason is freedom.

And I think you should google what exactly “psycho” is. /He gently pushes Wing’s hand away./ Last time I checked do quite fit the definition. Uncomfortable? I’d love to cross my swords with him! /He claps his hands happily, apparently it was a thing he was really looking forward to./ After all he is a some kind of version of me and I’m a version of him. Don’t you think a deadly duel between us would be interesting?

[whitewingedknight]

"It's good that you respect his autonomy, Drift, but that doesn't mean that you don't have any sort of, well, other investment in him." Wing is all about softie feelings, red Drift.  Sorry. And he's just saying, a mech doesn't make another mech pancakes unless there's more than simple business. 

"How do you define 'freedom' Drift?"  Because it seems to him, Drift's life is aimless moving from job to job, always doing another's contracted will. "And what's wrong with being an 'idealist'...?" He's not sure what a hippy is, though. He flips idly through some holovids: maybe his Drift would like one of these? 

"No. I don't think a duel between you two would be interesting. It would be distressing, because someone I liked would end up hurt."  

[whitewingedknight]

Return (timeskipped)

[whitewingedknight]

Wing gave a deep, contented sigh, the fresh energon fizzing in his systems, Perceptor a warm, wanting fuzz against his chassis.  He purrs into the kiss, vibrations traveling through his frame.  He pulls away, barely, just enough to say, “…should we lock the door?” 

[gun-fondling-battle-stat-blog]

Before? Yes, locking the door would be appropriate.  But now?  ”What if they wish to join us?” he inquired, voice muffled against the mech’s neck.  Unless, of course, Wing preferred to have Perceptor all to himself for the time being.  The sniper wouldn’t deny him, yet he would feel a bit off, considering the talk they just had.  And he didn’t wish to leave anyone out.

[whitewingedknight]

"....oh."  More than the soft syllable, the tremor of desire that ran through the jet's frame indicated his response to that idea. Drift joining them, or Gasket.  Or even just watching. It was a great deal to imagine.  

Wing takes a step back, leading Perceptor with him by the hands, to prop himself on the table. His hands skated up the other's arms, fingertips teasing his throat, pulling Perceptor in for another kiss. 

[botofbanter-blog]

Promised Land

[whitewingedknight]

“But, well, surely you’d rather go into a fight with Perceptor beside you than alone, right?” 

He winces. “Yes, I..we were a bit stressed when you spoke with Drift.”  He would like to gloss over all of that please. It’s embarrassing. 

“I mean,” he blinks, stunned by the thwack of foam against his crest, catching the foam projectile as it falls, “is it really, well, responsible to give young ones miniature weapons? What does that teach them?”  

Probably whatever this Drift is thinking, the way his strange white optics go suddenly inward and distant.  He looks awkward. “I-is there something we could get Drift? My Drift?”  

[botofbanter-blog]

It… /Red almost jumped getting back to Earth. The question surprised him because he never really thought about it. At least not all the time at least./ … it doesn’t really matter. I guess.

/He passes Wing by and moves forward towards next stands./

Well, what do you think it teaches them? How to fight and defend themselves. /He shrugs and contemplates the next question./ Something other than poison? I don’t know. It’s your fanclub not mine. Besides I doubt he would like to touch anything that I had in my hands. I’m the psycho, remember?

[whitewingedknight]

"But surely it does matter? Something matters to you?" Else why bother living?   

He follows the cloaked mech. "But if you teach them only how to fight, how will they learn cooperation? Collaboration? You give them one tool--war--and they will use it for every problem."  

He reaches out, brushing the other's arm. "You're not 'psycho'.  He doesn't understand you, nor you him. I dare say you each make each other uncomfortable." 

[whitewingedknight]

Return (timeskipped)

[whitewingedknight]

“I’m glad to hear that.” He looks up, gold optics seeking the blue, even as the fingers brushed his helm.  And his mouth opens under the kiss, his hands stroking gently down Perceptor’s back, thumbs finding the bevels of the blocky chestplate.  ”I still would like to make it up to you.”  

[gun-fondling-battle-stat-blog]

He returned the stare, looking for any sign of hesitation or deception.  Finding neither, the sniper finally dropped his guard completely and accepted Wing’s advances.

The touch along his chestplate produced a shiver, his frame arching slightly into the Knight’s hands as his engine gave a satisfying rumble.  Perceptor kissed Wing again—deeper and rougher than before.

[whitewingedknight]

Wing gave a deep, contented sigh, the fresh energon fizzing in his systems, Perceptor a warm, wanting fuzz against his chassis.  He purrs into the kiss, vibrations traveling through his frame.  He pulls away, barely, just enough to say, "...should we lock the door?" 

[whitewingedknight]

Return (timeskipped)

[whitewingedknight]

“I hurt you, all of you.” He nuzzled against Perceptor’s chassis.  ”Please, let me try.  I don’t want you to feel sad anymore.” 

[gun-fondling-battle-stat-blog]

That was true; Wing did hurt them, but it wasn’t like they never hurt each other before.  It was merely something they had to get through.

“I’m not sad,” he replied in a soft tone.

Perceptor brought his fingertips to the crest adorning Wing’s helm.  “I have already forgiven you.”  He then lowered his lips to the same spot, leaving a lingering kiss.

[whitewingedknight]

"I'm glad to hear that." He looks up, gold optics seeking the blue, even as the fingers brushed his helm.  And his mouth opens under the kiss, his hands stroking gently down Perceptor's back, thumbs finding the bevels of the blocky chestplate.  "I still would like to make it up to you."  

[whitewingedknight]

Return (timeskipped)

[whitewingedknight]

“I did.” It was hard to explain, how he could see parts of his Perceptor in the dark one, how he treated Drift, and how he treated Wing. It had made him realize how much he hadn’t let him see about the one he’d known.  ”I can only hope you will let me make it up to all of you.” 

[gun-fondling-battle-stat-blog]

After spending time with the mercenaries, Perceptor would agree that he and his counterpart shared similarities.  It almost unnerved him to a point. 

“There is nothing to ‘make up.’”  He began to finger the contours of Wing’s back.  “Everything is… fine, now.”

[whitewingedknight]

"I hurt you, all of you." He nuzzled against Perceptor's chassis.  "Please, let me try.  I don't want you to feel sad anymore." 

[botofbanter-blog]

Promised Land

[whitewingedknight]

“Oh. Well. Uh. I don’t find my Drift boring. He’s actually rather intense. He just, well, he doesn’t make a good first impression.”  His wings riffle. “I for one am glad he didn’t come with you: Drift needs him. Just as you need your Perceptor.” 

He tilts his head, looking at the foam gun, more than slightly appalled. . “Kids. They’re toys?!”  

[botofbanter-blog]

Question is if he wants or need. That’s two different things. /Red plays with one of the pistols./ Me and Percy… /He stops for a moment before speaking again./ … we have an agreement. He’s free to do whatever he wants or leave whenever he wants. We share profits from the business and cover our backs. That way we both have the space we need. And Grumpy? He didn’t look really happy when we met him, more like he was really tired. He got better when we had fun in the underground outpost. /He chuckles./ But then he got all mopey again when we spoke to you guys. /Drift shrugs just telling the truth about what he observed during their adventure in the outpost. While Grumpy was a very fun companion there was a weird feel from him. Red spent enough of time with Perceptor to not being able to read some signs from his counterpart, after all they were in some way very similar. Drift quickly pushes those thoughts aside when Wing raises his voice clearly upset the small mech’s new toys. He tilts his helmet puzzled, not quite understanding what’s wrong with them./

Well, yeah? /He playfully shoots with his fingers Wing’s forehead crest with one of the foam bullets./ What are you rustling your feathers about? You thought they are filled with some kind of paralyze poison or what? 

/For a toys they were looking surprisingly real, not to mention dangerous with all those fancy lights and ornaments that made them look not that different from other weapons displayed on many stands in this alley./

You have more effective ways to get rid of your target than using foam bullets, but probably I could kill someone with it if I really tried… Hmmmm….

/Right away he drifted away focusing his optics on the ammunition he was holding. His processor started instantly processing many uses of this ammo for well… specific uses. If you can kill someone with a cup - why not kill him with a foam bullet? A malicious smile appears on his face while he considers new given options./

[whitewingedknight]

"But, well, surely you'd rather go into a fight with Perceptor beside you than alone, right?" 

He winces. "Yes, I..we were a bit stressed when you spoke with Drift."  He would like to gloss over all of that please. It's embarrassing. 

"I mean," he blinks, stunned by the thwack of foam against his crest, catching the foam projectile as it falls, "is it really, well, responsible to give young ones miniature weapons? What does that teach them?"  

Probably whatever this Drift is thinking, the way his strange white optics go suddenly inward and distant.  He looks awkward. "I-is there something we could get Drift? My Drift?"  

[whitewingedknight]

Return (timeskipped)

[whitewingedknight]

“Perceptor,” Wing whispered. Just to say the name, to have the syllables on his lipplates.  His spinal struts roll gently forward, in a sinuous wave against the taller mech’s body. “I missed being held. So much. I missed…all of this.” 

[gun-fondling-battle-stat-blog]

There was something in the way he said his name… All it took was that contact between their frames, and Perceptor’s arms slipped around Wing’s torso to pull him closer.  “You missed… me,” he replied gently.  

[whitewingedknight]

"I did." It was hard to explain, how he could see parts of his Perceptor in the dark one, how he treated Drift, and how he treated Wing. It had made him realize how much he hadn't let him see about the one he'd known.  "I can only hope you will let me make it up to all of you." 

[newcrystalcity]

How's My Driving?

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[whitewingedknight]

other than 'wow could you stop falling off the face of the earth' orz. 

[whitewingedknight]

Return (timeskipped)

[whitewingedknight]

All Wing knows is that the EM field flares softly against him as his fingers brush the scope. His mouth shapes a dreamy smile, “That’s all any of us can do,” he says, sliding lower, to one knee, pressing his chassis against the other mech. 

[gun-fondling-battle-stat-blog]

There was a low, almost inaudible rumble as Wing pressed against him.  Perceptor wasn’t expecting this, but it was far from being unwelcome.  “Yes…”  He rested his hands at the Knight’s hips, fingers absently seeking the edges of the smooth armor.

[whitewingedknight]

"Perceptor," Wing whispered. Just to say the name, to have the syllables on his lipplates.  His spinal struts roll gently forward, in a sinuous wave against the taller mech's body. "I missed being held. So much. I missed...all of this." 

[botofbanter-blog]

Promised Land

[whitewingedknight]

“He’s merely quiet. But he cares about Drift, much the way your Perceptor cares about you.”  You can’t fool Wing about that: he was there for pancakes.  

“I’m sure he’ll be pleased to know an expert picked it out.”  He frowns. “And I don’t think it’s a bad thing not to be comfortable around weapons.” So there. 

He pays for the gun, taking the parcel with him as he approaches where the red mech is admiring…whatever that is. “Is that for riot control?”  He reaches to poke one of the rounds of ammunition. 

[botofbanter-blog]

What? /He frowns slightly looking at Wing./ I meant that my counterpart was boring not Grumpy. Grumpy was surprisingly fun for someone who didn’t talk much. He’s okay. Too bad he didn’t want to tag along with us, we made a really good team. /He smiles lightly./

And no. Those are the guns I was talking about earlier! They use foam amunition and are made for well… in universal language you would say kids. /He laughs and picks few the best guns from the entire display along with the ammo. Already a plan how to use them formed in his head and he couldn’t wait to share it with Percy./ You know, for some guys from here being a mercenary is a family business. 

[whitewingedknight]

"Oh. Well. Uh. I don't find my Drift boring. He's actually rather intense. He just, well, he doesn't make a good first impression."  His wings riffle. "I for one am glad he didn't come with you: Drift needs him. Just as you need your Perceptor." 

He tilts his head, looking at the foam gun, more than slightly appalled. . "Kids. They're toys?!"  

[whitewingedknight]

Return (timeskipped)

[whitewingedknight]

Wing wasn’t trying to distract Perceptor, but reassure him through touch that he was listening and willing.  ”I want us all to be happy.  However that happens, I want it to be.” 

It’s so nice to be touching someone again, after the alternate universe, where Drift kept not-really-joking about wanting to kill him.  ”No secrets, absolutely,” he says, with a confident nod. 

[gun-fondling-battle-stat-blog]

Perceptor fought to keep his expression neutral as the Knight’s fingers left a trail of tingling pleasure along his sensitive appendage.  “I will do my best…” he murmured, optics searching Wing’s face.

[whitewingedknight]

All Wing knows is that the EM field flares softly against him as his fingers brush the scope. His mouth shapes a dreamy smile, "That's all any of us can do," he says, sliding lower, to one knee, pressing his chassis against the other mech. 

[botofbanter-blog]

Promised Land

[whitewingedknight]

“He’s not boring!” It’s an automatic defense of a friend, before he even tries to process that being ‘not boring’ to this Drift was probably very, very bad.  

He frowns. Is it a gesture of friendship to buy someone a gun? The message certainly seems…odd.  Still, this Drift, though he was a bit, well, strange, hadn’t led him astray yet.  ”All right.” He offers a smile. “Thank you. Is it all right if I tell him you helped pick it out?”  

[botofbanter-blog]

He does seem boring.

/Red shrugs and picks up an assault rifle checking it out very thoroughly. He wants to add something to the topic but decides to drop it in the end. He couldn’t even put a digit on what his counterpart reminded him of. In summary - the white Drift was just dull./

Well, I think he will get the idea that you didn’t pick it by yourself. You seem like a type of guy who would shoot himself by accident if he’d get a gun. /Drift laughs loudly and moves to weirdly looking weapons. The build would suggest something involving lasers or other really advanced stuff but the ammo lying next to them indicated that they shoot foam bullets./ Yeah, that what I was talking about. Aren’t you adorable?

[whitewingedknight]

"He's merely quiet. But he cares about Drift, much the way your Perceptor cares about you."  You can't fool Wing about that: he was there for pancakes.  

"I'm sure he'll be pleased to know an expert picked it out."  He frowns. "And I don't think it's a bad thing not to be comfortable around weapons." So there. 

He pays for the gun, taking the parcel with him as he approaches where the red mech is admiring...whatever that is. "Is that for riot control?"  He reaches to poke one of the rounds of ammunition. 

[whitewingedknight]

Return (timeskipped)

[whitewingedknight]

Wing lets his hands linger on the other’s shoulders, one finger tracing along the scope.  ”No one should, no. With three, someone might be. With four, it won’t.” He gives a confident nod. 

[gun-fondling-battle-stat-blog]

The touch along his scope was almost distracting.  He couldn’t tell if the Knight was doing that on purpose or, perhaps, he had a wandering hand.  Either way, it felt wonderful.

Perceptor was also beginning to wonder if he had to show Wing what he meant, exactly, by involving the four of them.  Which, to be honest, didn’t sound like a bad idea, but he wasn’t about to rush into things.  After all, he didn’t want Gasket to blow a fuse at the sudden invite.

“Hm.  There will be no secrets between us?  We should… be open with one another?”

[whitewingedknight]

Wing wasn't trying to distract Perceptor, but reassure him through touch that he was listening and willing.  "I want us all to be happy.  However that happens, I want it to be." 

It's so nice to be touching someone again, after the alternate universe, where Drift kept not-really-joking about wanting to kill him.  "No secrets, absolutely," he says, with a confident nod.